


hell on earth

by transvav



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gen, i might do something with him idk, no ryan yet, with a twist ;3c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:58:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/pseuds/transvav
Summary: There are seven of them. They approach in a specific order.Every meeting in this city is an offer, and a test.





	hell on earth

**Author's Note:**

> this was a creative writing assignment  
> i didn't put ryan's part in it would have been too long if i did,,, i might do a second chapter with him

The first one Gavin meets in this city is riding a motorcycle that’s more expensive than two years of his rent.

He’s under the awning of the bus stop, waiting for the last bus before they stop cycling for the night. It’s not a long walk home, but it’s storming like he hasn’t seen since he’s lived in England, rain pouring from the dark clouds and lightning dancing across the sky every minute or so. The sound of an engine roars past, along with a splash of water from the curbside. Gavin doesn’t look even look up.

Not until the noise of the engine is right in front of him, the occasional revving noise. When Gavin does glance away from his phone screen, he sees a short, well built rider in a dark helmet with a tinted visor. They stare at each other, for a while, before the stranger holds out a hand.

“Get on the bike,” he says, his voice muffled by the helmet, and Gavin raises an eyebrow.

“I think I’d rather not,” he replies, somehow unshaken by the command. A part of him wonders if he should be more afraid, in this city, so riddled with crime and murder and all sorts of terrible things. This stranger probably has a gun‒ most residents do. But another, louder part of him, is boasting that this man won’t hurt him. There’s a pride bubbling up in him he’s never felt before and he shrugs at the motorcyclist before getting up from the bus stop and beginning to walk home.

He can feel the stranger’s gaze on his back as his hair starts to stick to his forehead and water seeps into his shoes. Moments later the engine revs again and he hears it drive away, the cluster of pride deep in his heart pulling away with it, leaving nothing but drained energy and heavy regret.

Vaguely, Gavin wonders if he’s just started something he won’t be able to stop.

 

He’s at his apartment when the second one comes knocking. The sound of the fist against the old wood sends fury running in his blood for a reason he couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because of the headache that had blossomed at the sound of a sports car parking outside. Gavin rubs his temples slowly and gets up, trying not to let the new anger bubble over as he opens the door.

A man with copper red curls and a boyish, freckled face, is standing in the doorway, a scowl across his lips. “I’m surprised,” he says. “Most people don’t pass the first.”

“Excuse me?” Gavin asks, annoyance growing in lieu of confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“This is now a _test_ , buddy,” the stranger laughs. “Jeremy approaches. Most people get on the bike.”

“And if they don’t?”

“They meet me.”

Gavin scoffs. “So what are you supposed to do, invite me to get a beer?”

“Nah,” redhead snorts, and pulls out a gun.

Gavin looks at it for a good long while, trying to figure out the correct reaction to something like this. It takes a good few seconds before he decides. He’s tired, his head’s pounding, and he’s fed up with this shit.

He slams the door in the guy’s face and turns back towards his couch.

He hears muffled laughter go down the hallway as he slumps down onto the uncomfortable cushion‒ his anger fades too, into a terrible lingering fear that reminds him that he could have just died.

 

A pair of them approach him together, at his measly job in a gas station where he fears for his life nearly every day. It’s the crime capital of the nation, and every big time criminal starts out with petty theft from the around the corner liquor store‒ Gavin’s seen enough kids, barely fifteen, coming in with a pen knife and shoving it in his face.

Most of the time, for those ones, he pulls his pistol from under the counter and gives them a fifty, and tells them to get out before he calls the cops. Not that it matters. The cops are dirty too.

But this time, it’s two adults, radiating importance and power in ways he’s not sure he wants to understand.

The man’s in a full suit, head to toe, but it’s a size too big and looks crumpled and loose in all the wrong places, like he’d gotten up that morning and decided not to put enough effort into getting dressed. The woman’s in a tacky hawaiian tourist shirt and striped shorts, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that makes Gavin want to know how she’s so confident, and it makes him want to be like that too.

They stand directly in front of him, at the counter, and it’s silence for a little bit before the man clears his throat.

“Congratulations,” he says in a slow drawl, placing a heavily tattooed hand on the counter. Gavin looks towards it and blinks slowly, watching as they mysteriously dance across the man’s skin. Gavin wonders if he’s been drugged. “You’re one of very few to make it so far. Most of the people that get on Jeremy’s bike are proven to be incompetent‒ anyone afterwards is worth our time.”

Gavin nods slowly, because at this point he feels like he’s picked up what’s going on. Two weeks ago, a woman with hair like fire had met him in the club, seduced him, and invited him back to her place, but he’d declined. A week before a man in the grocery store had stepped up and offered to buy him his food, and a little extra too, but Gavin insisted he could pay for what he needed, despite how tempting the offer had seemed. Another man, his doctor from a week ago, had come up and described to him his dream life‒ penthouse suite with a view, money beyond compare, everything he’d ever want and need‒ just agree to the terms. Gavin almost found it difficult to say no.

These two before him are two of the most powerful criminals in the city, their faces plastered on the news stations so often it’s hard not to recognize them. But fear, usually, is what keeps people in their place, and keeps most people from calling the authorities.

Fear is not what keeps Gavin frozen at the counter.

It’s the feeling of laziness and exhaustion mixed with the want tugging at his stomach, the jealously stinging his tongue. It’s the feeling of arrogance and dignity he felt from the motorcyclist, the anger and fury from the stranger at his door, the sex appeal in the woman, the hunger he’d felt with the man at the store, the selfishness he’d felt listening to his own dreams.

“Seven sins,” he says in a daze, and sees the woman smile, like a mother to a child. “You’re the seven sins personified.”

“Very good, Mr. Free,” the man says with a lazy grin. “You’re exactly what they said you’d be.”

Gavin didn’t want to ask who _they_ were. He moved on. “Why do you keep seeking me out?”

“We need someone of your... specialities. Very few can see and resist what we are‒ the ones who can usually aren’t _normal_.”

“Human, you mean,” Gavin mumbles, and stoops down to pick up a bottle of vodka.

“Exactly!” the woman says, her brow furrowing in worry as he takes a long drink. “By the way you’re drinking that, you really aren’t.”

He laughs bitterly and raises the bottle in a cheers motion. The man chuckles, but stops as the woman slaps at his arm. “We’d really love it if you considered a test run,” she says. “We can figure out what kind of thing you are together.”

He sighs, and swirls the liquid in the bottle around, watching it swish around like a whirlpool at the bottom. A grin starts to spread on his face as he sees, in the corner of his eye, how uncomfortable the sins‒ presumably demons‒ are getting. They shift in place, swallow, rub at their arms, watching him carefully. Eventually, he looks back up at them with a grin.

“I _know_ what I am,” he says, and the two of them jerk slightly in place. “But I’ll join your little group for a bit. Feel my way around. Maybe along the way, you can guess?”

The two of them look at each other, and for a moment, Gavin sees their real features. The sharpness in their teeth, the horns curling on their skulls, their skin tinted and almost translucent. He smiles to himself as they tell him to give them a moment and they step outside‒ it’s probably because of how easily he’s switched his personality, a complete one eighty from the persona he’s displayed up until this point.

As they’re talking, he drops his own disguise, running his tongue over his teeth, not as sharp as theirs, not as dull as a human’s. He’s right in the middle, just like he’d planned when he decided to come to Earth and have a little fun.

It’s not often that a group of demons comes searching for something like him, desperate to have his help, his abilities. Gavin stirs the bottle again and feels another few of his feathers burn on his back.

Sometimes falling is the best thing for an angel to do.

**Author's Note:**

> for reference:  
> geoff is sloth  
> jack is envy  
> lindsay is lust  
> michael is wrath  
> jeremy is pride  
> trevor is greed  
> matt is gluttony  
> gav's a fallen angel and ryan would have been the horseman of death UHHHH this was a really dumb idea tbh  
> my [tumblr](http://transvav.tumblr.com)  
> leave a Dunk comment or something idk


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